He lived for kids, died for nothing

AFTER HER SON Jonathan was murdered, Sita Rosado was grieving with a friend who had known him well.

"She said, 'I wish I could put an experiment into play where, before a person pulls the trigger, he would see all the people he would hurt beyond the person being killed,' " recalls Sita, sitting in her cozy Hunting Park home on Cayuga Street with husband Jimmy and daughter Erica. "The parents, siblings, aunts, uncles, cousins, grandparents, friends - everybody. She thought it might stop him from pulling the trigger.

"But would it?" asks Sita, who tries to keep herself from playing the "what if" mind games that have tortured her since Jonathan was shot on Dec. 20. "If someone is driven to pull a trigger anyway, would it do any good?

"What I want to know is, what did my son's killer do after he shot Jonathan? Did he smoke a cigarette? Take a nap? Eat a sandwich? What do you do after you take someone's life?"

I have no answers for Sita, who exudes grace and strength. Or for Jimmy, who is a gentle and humble dad. Or for vivacious Erica, who has her brother's smile.

But I have many questions for the person who killed Jonathan Rosado, who was just 22 years old when he bled to death in his parents' arms.

He'd spent the evening at a friend's graduation party. Afterward, the friend's dad drove him home, dropping him a few doors from the house. Within minutes, he was shot three times. Philly Homicide Capt. James Clark says Jonathan's death was one of three recent robbery-homicides in the area committed with the same caliber gun.

("We are proceeding with ballistics" tests to see if the same weapon was used in all three, says Clark. "We've gotten tips on who did one of the murders.")

So tell me, Sir Thug, did you know that Jonathan was a hero to Hunting Park kids? Since 2011, he had been a coach with Legacy Youth Tennis, using the sport to teach kids about fitness, health, leadership and responsibility.

Jonathan took part in Legacy programs when he was a chubby, awkward kid. Years later, after he'd stretched into a lean, tennis-playing freshman at Community College of Philadelphia, he was hired by Legacy to help expand programming in Hunting Park.

The kids adored him. When Legacy staffers broke the news of his murder to tennis students at McClure Elementary School, where Legacy holds winter classes, "they were inconsolable," says Kareem Bryant.

"He was a mentor, a big brother, a confidant, a protector - he even walked kids home after classes," says Bryant, Legacy's director of neighborhood-based programs. "To parents, he was a role model."

Because he was bilingual, he easily connected with Hispanic families whose traditional sports didn't include tennis. Says Bryant, "He made tennis cool."

With Jonathan's charismatic influence, the Hunting Park program grew from nothing to 126 students in two years. I ask Bryant how he'll fill the hole left by Jonathan's death. He pauses.

"To be determined," he sighs sadly. "He leaves big shoes to fill."

Did you know, Sir Thug, that Jonathan was raised Quaker? His family belongs to the Friends Meeting at 4th and Arch streets, whose members watched him grow from a funny little kid into a respectful adult who'd lament that "kids today" don't know to hold the door for senior citizens.

They, too, are shattered that a young man whose life was all about peace and justice - who, at 13, took punches from bullies as he hurried to protect a younger kid from torment - lost his life so violently.

Jonathan was going to be a history teacher, Sir Thug, using the leadership skills he honed on the court to ignite kids' learning in the classroom. As a child, his own love of history grew each time his folks took him and his sister to places like Ellis Island and Washington, D.C., to bolster their understanding of what they were learning in school.

As for girlfriends, he was too busy to have a steady.

"We said, 'Play the field now, because when you meet someone and marry, remember: It's for life,' " says Sita.

Sir Thug, if you could meet Jonathan's kin, you'd see what a great family looks like. They work hard - Jimmy was in the hospitality business, Sita is a human-resources consultant, Erica is a nanny - and are loyal to the horde of relatives who crammed Rodriguez Funeral Home at J and Erie for Jonathan's service.

Back at the house, Jimmy and Sita held Jonathan's sobbing friends as they mourned. One by one, they told of this kindness or that favor that Jonathan had done them unbidden.

"But you'd never have known it, to talk to Jon," says Jimmy. "He wasn't a braggart."

Says Sita, amazed: "One girl even said to me, 'Thank you for having Jonathan. It was my pleasure to know him.' "

Sita, Jimmy and Erica are trying to be strong, Sir Thug, but you have dealt them a horrible blow. They cannot believe that Jonathan will not move into a loft apartment one day (a dream of his), bear witness at his new goddaughter's christening, marry and have little ones of his own, never again tease his big sister, make his parents proud or walk a child home after tennis practice, a protective arm around a small shoulder.

Your bullets made sure of that.

If you'd known any of this, would it have made a difference?

" @RonniePhilly

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